Chapter 2 - Breakfast

Harry's eyes fluttered open, blinking rapidly as stray particles of dust assaulted his eyes. His arm stretched out to the side awkwardly, fingers fumbling for his glasses. Sliding them on, he took in his surroundings with sudden clarity. He was in his cupboard, on his rickity cot. As he looked down his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was 11-years-old again! At least, he was fairly certain he was 11, it felt like the correct guess. Though his body was once again young, his mind seemed intact. He could remember his life in vivid detail - his acceptance to Hogwarts, his years spent defeating Voldemort in various forms, the loss of his friends and Godfather along the way, and ultimately his death at the hands of the madman that had terrorized them all.

As he took it all in, the boy's ears perked up at a slight metallic jingle. A thin gold chain was clasped comfortably on his left wrist. Harry eyed the single charm it held with curiosity. It looked a bit like a time turner, albeit much smaller, and with flecks of light swirling around inside it like stray dandelion puffs in a summer's breeze. His fingers struggled to remove the object, but it seemed insistent on staying in place. Each time he would try to tug on the bracelet or it's clasps, it willed itself back into place. Harry twitched; he doubted that this mystery was one he'd be solving anytime soon. He made a quick mental note to look more into time turners when he could.

Hedwig hooted once, and Harry's face softened. Well he was certainly 11 then, and he'd already met Hagrid. He looked under his cot and found the tattered trunk that held his school supplies. Hagrid had "convinced" the Dursleys to give him something to pack his things for school in. It had been Dudley's before the boy had broken it's lock. The paint was peeling off of it, and there were many weathered down crass stickers from its previous ownership. Harry would certainly have to get some new baggage as soon as possible. This old thing had completely fallen apart before his first school year had been up.

With a breath for confidence, Harry ventured out of his cupboard and observed Petunia by the stove almost immediately. She turned to him with a sneer, "You! Come finish preparing breakfast while I go wake Dudley."

Quick to comply, Harry's body began to work like clockwork, remembering the countless mornings he had slaved over the hot stove to make food for his relatives. With years of practice beyond his current age floating about in his mind he doubted if he would ever burn a meal again. He would certainly try to avoid it, knowing what the Dursley's would do if it wasn't perfectly cooked. His body shook with a tremor of remembrance before returning to his task. He didn't want to be on the recieving end of Vernon's belt quite as often this go around.

Harry heard what he thought was thunder for a moment before realizing it was just Dudley and Vernon coming down the stairs. The boy finished putting the eggs, bacon, and pancakes on the plate before snatching up the last two little silver dollar pancakes and stuffing them in his mouth. He forced himself to swallow, his throat sore, "Good morning Uncle Vernon, good morning Dudley."

Both whales sat down at the table, ignoring Harry completely save for a single kick in the shin from Dudley. Vernon looked at him proudly, "That's my boy, Dudley! Strong young lad aren't you?"

The family ate breakfast in silence, both males were too busy shoveling food into their mouths too quickly to say anything. Harry lathered up the pans and plates carefully, cleaning the dishes while he watched the family interact. His leg was sure to have a bruise later, but the pain was fading quickly. He was far too used to this sort of thing. Petunia kissed her son on the forehead and handed him his school bag.

"Have a good day at school my Duddykins!" She fawned over the boy a bit before moving on to her husband, giving him an appropriate peck on the cheek, "Have a good day at work, Vernon. I'm so excited that you might be in line for that raise. We can finally hire a gardener so the neighbors won't have to look at him anymore," she threw a sidewways glance at Harry before smiling saccharinely at her husband once more. The men rushed out the door, eager to get started with their days. Harry allowed himself a brief moment of silence, sending good thoughts to whomever those two may be terrorizing today.

Today was his Aunt's bimonthly haircut day and if that raise she had mentioned was truly possible, she'd certainly want to flaunt it to all the ladies at the salon. Petunia had left quickly after her husband and son, arms full of magazines with the latest celebrity hairstyles, and wouldn't be back for quite a few hours. Harry wasn't sure how it took so long, for she usually came back looking the same if not for an extra curl or two here and there. It was rare for Harry to find a day to himself and he sighed in relief as he sat back in his cupboard after taking a quick look at the calendar. The peace and quiet gave him some much needed time to think, and he greatly prefered the comfort that the dim cupboard gave him rather than the glaring sun of the outside world. It was the last Friday before he was to go to Hogwarts - Dudley's private school nearby had started just a bit earlier than the magical castle did - and he had much to mull over.

Clearly he was back in his old body to change something, many somethings. If he had understood Dumbledore right it would also take some time. Of course Harry had no idea what he was supposed to change, but perhaps that was the key. He could choose what should be changed. So many things had happened over the years, things that should never have come to pass, but now he could change all that. Well, perhaps not everything. the corners of his lips fell into a frown. Perhaps taking his time, going year by year, letting events unfold and changing them as he knew he should would be the best approach. He certainly couldn't change everything at once, if he tried no one would believe him when he tried to explain.

He could picture it now, "But sir, please, you must believe me. I'm from the future, and I just know that this isn't going to go well." Harry snorted. An 11-year-old boy would never be believed, even if he was the Boy-Who-Lived, twice he added silently. Even Albus would be skeptical, and that was saying something. No he would simply have to wait for things to happen naturally and deal with everything as it arrived.

The boy's face softened as he thought of Hogwarts. Harry was quite excited to see the school again. Back in his time it had been so depressing by the end of his days, the dark magic that had been forcecd into the school having poisoned the castle to its core. Of course, it would be bright and light now since none of that had come to pass yet here. Of course, the subtle darkness had begun creeping into Hogwarts back in his first year. He thought of Quirrell and his attempts to kill Harry and acquire the stone for the leech of the Dark Lord that the Professor had sustained. He would have to do something about that for sure.

He knew all that would happen in the upcoming year, and if all went as well as could be, he would have a lot more free time than he had in his first lifetime. He could apply himself, study harder like Hermione, study harder than Hermione even, since he had already learned so much. Perhaps he'd even take up a hobby or look for a way to get away from the Dursleys. His eyes lit up with the possibilities. He had always regretted not applying himself more in school. Maybe if he had tried harded, gotten in less trouble, he would have been able to end the war sooner, or even prevent it from happening all together. Harry nodded once, the idea cemented in his mind. He would work hard, and learn more. After all, who knew what kinds of magic there were in the world that he had overlooked, that could turn the tide of the battles yet to come. And what better time to start than the present.

Checking the time once more to be sure Petunia wouldn't be home soon, Harry scurried out the door and down the street, grabbing a bus into London. As he arrived near the Leaky Cauldron he found himself being stared at by quite a few of the muggles around him. Whispers carried themselves into his ears, "He's so young, I wonder if he's lost. Do you think his parents are nearby?" Harry's feet barely seemed to touch the ground as he rushed into the pub. He had forgotten that he wasn't 17 anymore, he was a little boy again, walking around London alone.

Pushing the door open, he threw Tom the barkeep an awkward smile before going to the back and tapping the bricks the correct way to open the door to Diagon Alley. His breath hitched as his eyes scanned the colorful shops that in his time had been long ago abandoned in fear of a Death Eater raid. The wide alleyway was a blur of wizards and witches in tall hats and long robes. Harry's limbs were glued to his sides, squeezing their way through the labryrinth of people. At least he wouldn't have to worry about being recognized, not in this crowd.

He made his way to an intimidating building, rising just above the others. Harry was glad there weren't many people coming and going from the ivory parthenon at the present, it would go much faster this way and everyone wanted to get in and out of Gringotts quickly. The Goblins seemed to unnerve everyone. Harry looked around at them with disgust. The boy recalled how they had treated the dragon that guarded their treasures. How they ever hoped to get the same rights as wizards when they still treated other creatures like that was beyond him.

He approached the desk of the one Goblin he recognized and cleared his throat, "Good day. I was wondering if I could be led down to my fault so I may make a withdrawl." Harry presented his key.

With a critical look the Goblin replied, "Of course, Mr. Potter. My name is Gripgook, I will escort you down. Follow me please."

Harry followed the creature to a doorway and entered, taking a seat in the trolley that appeared before them. "I remember. I mean, I remember you showing me down here just a few days ago, Griphook." If the Goblin was surprised he didn't show it. They arrived at the vault within moments and Griphook waited at the entrance to the vault after unlocking it and returning the key to Harry.

Having never properly explored the vault, Harry vowed to return and do so at a later time, but for now he grabbed about 40 galleons and stuffed them in the pockets of his oversized pants. "Thank you Griphook, that will be all." The ride back took a minute or two this time, as they were riding up the track rather than down. The wind whooshed past Harry's face loudly, making it impossible to hold a conversation. Harry enjoyed the ride nonetheless, it reminded him a bit of flying on a broom, and he hadn't done that in a very long htime, he thought fondly.

Back in the main alley his feet carried him swiftly, passing by many shops that had interested him as a child; the magical menagerie, the quidditch store, etc. He didn't have as much interest in them now, and he doubted they had anything he would need at the present time. That didn't leave much save for two stores. The first was Flourish and Blotts. He said hello to the shopkeeper and began scanning the shelves for anything interesting. Quite a few titles caught his eye and Harry made a mental note to remember to buy some more of them the next time he was here. It wouldn't do for him to have too much to carry when he hadn't found his new luggage yet. In the end Harry decided to buy two books on wizarding customs and one on useful everyday charms. It wasn't much in the way of something that would help him win the war, but it was somewhere to start, and he had never really understood some of the wizarding traditions that always seemed so important.

He handed the cashier 6 galleons and stepped outside. His next stop was right across the way. A bell rung as he swung the door opened and looked around. The windows were full of trunks of every size, many with different Hogwarts crests on them. Around the shop there were shelves and bags that held what he recognized as bottomless bags. The boy grinned, remembering how surprised he and Ron had been at Hermione's useful bag when they were on the run.

"Can I help you young man?" An old shopkeeper startled Harry, limping out from the back.

"Ah, yes, I'm looking for a new bag actually. My trunk is completely worn down and I don't think it'll hold through my next school year. I'd prefer a shoulder bag if you have any." Harry eyed the man, he seemed friendly enough.

"Bless my soul, it's Harry Potter! Well of course, I've got just the bag for you! In fact I have many," the man flashed Harry a toothy grin, "A real honor to have you in my shop, you having ended the war as a baby and all. That's how I got my limp you see, fightin' in the war. But nevermind that, let me show you some of my finer wares.

The man led Harry to a table on the right side of the shop, "These here are my latest creation. Enchanted to hold as much as you need, provided you've got a shrinking charm up your sleeve of course. They each come with a secure side pocket, in case you've got a volatile potion or something you need to keep in a certain environment. It can be charmed separately from the rest of the bag, since it's much smaller than the bag itself. The bag has 3 main pockets inside, surrounding the main carrying compartment."

Harry nodded. He had no idea bags were so complex in the wizarding world. "I really like the sound of those features. Uhmn, do you have anything that isn't so... brown?"

"Gah haha, of course, of course. Sorry about that, lad. I was in Durmstrange during my day and I always lean toward bags that go with my old uniform's color scheme. How about one of these?" He held out some color cards for Harry.

The boy took them gratefully and looked them over. "I think I'd like this gray one please."

"Nice choice, gray goes well with everything." The man rung up his purchase and waved his hand over the bag he had shown Harry, changing the color to gray instantly. "That'll be 30 galleons."

Harry handed the man his money, "Thank you Mister..." he trailed off, realising the man had never introduced himself.

"Lynx. The name's Berg Lynx." They shook hands briefly before Harry left with another thank you and a wave. The boy turned down the side of the shop and stopped, taking a deep breath. He wondered if he'd be able to apparate still. He did remember how, and he certainly couldn't return home the way he had come, not at this time of night. He mustered all his focus, his eyes screwed shut, and with a loud pop he was back in his cupboard. He looked himself over critically. Nothing appeared to have splinched. His fingers reached up and grazed over his face. Harry grinned, he still had both his eyebrows, so no problems there.

Harry got out his old trunk put his new bag into it, knowing he wouldn't be able to shrink anything to put into it until he was on the train. He left the book on everyday charms he had bought that day out on his cot, looking forward to reading it before bed that night. Heading out to the kitchen he cringed as he felt a sharp smack on his head. "Hurry up and start dinner! Vernon will be back from picking Dudley up from his play date any minute." If Petunia had noticed Harry's earlier absence she made no mention of it.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

The woman went about setting the table, muttering to herself about her Dudders and how she was sure he must have spent all day after school with his friend studying. Harry almost let a laugh out, that was hysterical. The only thing Dudley ever studied was the television.

Dinner was quiet for Harry, he was expected to go back to his cupboard with a small plate of leftovers from the night before and be thankful he'd gotten that much. Harry had no problems with this, the less time spent around his relatives the better his mood was. It also gave him an opportunity to open up his book and start reading. He spooned up a bite of custard and hummed quietly, enjoying the smooth texture.

Chapter 1, he read silently, Glamour and Appearance Charms. Harry snorted, fumbling to keep from dropping his plate. The chapter was full of little tricks and charms to make one look the best one could, and Harry was quite intrigued. He doubted he'd get much sleep that night. If nothing else, maybe he could defeat Voldemort through sheer good looks alone.